"No. I mean, maybe. But you just don't seem like yourself lately.. you're a lot less.. I don't know.. joyful, I guess."

A lot less joyful.

Those words rang in my ears for weeks and weeks and, on a bad day, for months after. I obsessed over it, but told no one. How could I seem less joyful? I'm always happy! Am I not smiling as much? Am I being rude? Less funny and friendly? Should I wear more eye make-up?

And I really believed that. If I could just get through the next few months, I'd be OK. If I could just suck it up and keep my head down, it'd be good. I had no reason to feel these things. I was being silly. Cold feet. It'll pass.

I had to do and say things that no one wants to do or say. And be in situations that no one wants to be in. It was a huge gut check for me. But I had to stick it out if I ever wanted to achieve what was on the other side.

Joy.

I wanted my joy back.

It took a year. A year to clean up the mess I made. For the snowball that had engulfed my life to completely melt. And for me to stand up tall and say, "I'm done ... and that's OK."

During that year, I had dozens of conversations with my family. Countless times.

But one sticks out.

My father and I were sitting on the porch, and between sobs and gasps for air, I said, "I'm ... so sorry ... for ... embarrassing ... you."

And he just shook his head and said, "I'm not embarrassed. I'm proud of you, Kates. What you did was brave."

It is brave to say "no." To admit, "this isn't right for me." To walk away. Even if what you're walking away from is supposed to be happy and exciting and wonderful. It's brave to admit you don't feel those things even if you think you should.

I still feel the sting of it all sometimes. Days when I feel guilt or shame or embarrassment. Times when I want to call everyone involved and scream, "I'm so sorry!"

But most days, I just feel thankful. Thankful that I had family who supported me and encouraged me. Who told me "you don't have to" when so many would have told me, "It's too late to back out." Thankful that God gave me the grace to handle all the criticism and gossip and the strength to stand firm when I finally knew what was right; right for me, and ultimately, right for him, before I ruined both our lives. Thankful I had the ability to see the big picture ... the light at the end of the tunnel — and stick it out.

And thankful to Dave, my mailman, who looked me in the eye three years ago and asked, "Are you OK?"